


Come What May

by ChelsaOfBakerStreet



Category: Glee, Moulin Rouge! (2001)
Genre: Kurt's stripper name is Porcelain, M/M, Songfic, blaine is a playwright, set in the 2010's, there's a strip club called suspenders
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-10
Updated: 2015-03-20
Packaged: 2017-11-04 08:47:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 14,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/391972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChelsaOfBakerStreet/pseuds/ChelsaOfBakerStreet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blaine is a poor, penniless playwright who runs into a band of eclectic artists. They drag him into their world of Spectacular, Spectacular where he is introduced to a strip club called Suspenders and a dancer named Porcelain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Meeting the Neighbours

**Author's Note:**

> So I just love Moulin Rouge! and I think everything should be crossed over with it. I started this a while back and have decided to pull it back out and finish it. Here goes nothing right? Also I do not own Glee nor Moulin Rouge!

The greatest thing you'll ever learn; is just to love and be loved in return.

My gift is my song, at least that's what they always told me. As of now, I'm sitting here staring at this god forsaken laptop trying to get the words down fast enough. Every song comes from emotion; and hell, if my story couldn't be turned into a song then I don't know if songs could ever be written again. It started a few years ago when I left home crushed and slightly broken, but with a burning desire to do what I loved.

* * *

I came to Hollywood to be a writer a little over a year ago. I wanted fame and fortune and my name on movies. I left Chicago a close-to-broke college graduate, shunned by my father for not choosing a better career for myself. I moved to a shabby apartment complex on the outskirts of Hollywood, living off of the publishing of a short story here and there. What I wanted more than anything though, was to write the greatest love story of all time. There was only one problem; I had never been in love.

At that moment a loud crash was heard from the apartment next to mine. I rushed over to make sure everyone was ok and was greeted by a boy who was covered head to toe in paint. "Finn" he said, sticking a hand out towards me. "Finn Hudson."

I stood there for a moment, taking in the sight of the room behind him before shaking his hand and introducing myself. "Blaine Anderson, I live next door."

Before I could say anything else another boy was shoving Finn out of the way. "Noah Puckerman, but everyone calls me Puck."

"Um hello Puck, is everything ok?" I was a bit taken aback by these men; they seemed a bit off their rocker so to speak.

"Oh everything is quite alright, we were just rehearsing a screenplay and Finn here accidentally knocked over the ladder Sam had the paint resting on."

"A screenplay you say?" I ventured, wondering why I was even asking in the first place.

"Yes!" Puck exclaimed. He waved his hands in arches while saying, "Spectacular, Spectacular. It's sure to be the next Broadway hit, if we could ever get Finn to stop messing up and causing us to lose our place."

Suddenly a man in a wheelchair knocked Puck out of the way. "Puck, if we don't hurry up we are never going to be ready to meet with the financier tomorrow and 'Spectacular, Spectacular' will never see the light of day!"

"Well, pray tell me where we are going to find someone less clumsy than Finn to stand in as the part of the young, dashing goat herder in the Swiss Alps?"

Both men stared at me momentarily before grabbing me by the shirt and dragging me into the room. "Guys, I really shouldn't…" I tried, but they were having none of it.

A few minutes later I was staring at all of them as complete pandemonium broke loose. Puck was singing a whole jumble of words that made absolutely no sense, Artie, the guy in the wheelchair, was testing out the line 'the hills are vital, atoning the descant'.

"No, no, no!" Finn exclaimed. "I've got it! The hills quake and shake-"

"Nah, no!" The man I had found to be Sam interrupted. "The hills intonate with the sound of melodies."

If there was ever a group that had artistic differences, it was this one. I tried in vain to throw out my idea, but their incessant chatter drowned out my words.

"The hills" "Chanting their" "The hills" Their voices rose as they began to get more agitated with each other and my anger grew with them because they wouldn't even listen to my opinion.

After a few more minutes of their nonsense I was so fed up that I cleared my throat and sang as loudly as I could, my tenor voice cutting through the air. " _The hills are alive, with the sound of music_!"

There, that got their attention quickly. They stood there, stunned momentarily before breaking out into a chorus of "the hills are alive with the sound of music." Artie found the chords on his keyboard while Puck strummed along on his guitar. Artie turned, wide eyed to me. "It-it fits perfectly Blaine!"

I was so happy that they had finally decided to listen to me that I continued on. " _With songs they have sung for a thousand years_."

Puck turned to Mike, who was in charge of the words to the show. "Mike, you guys should write the show together!"

Those words were not what Mike wanted to hear. He left, banging the door loudly and yelling at everyone. "Fine! Replace me with him! I'll find another group of people who appreciate me and my lyrics!"

Puck ignored the rantings of the Asian and turned to me, holding out a beer. "To you! And joining our group of merry men!"

"Pardon me," Artie cut in, looking a bit worried. "Have you ever written anything like this before?"

I turned, a bit stunned. "Why no" I answered, "actually I haven't."

"I'm ok with that." Finn said, returning from the bathroom paint-less. "The guy has talent!"

Puck pulled Artie to him. "The hills are alive with the sound of music.  _He_ came up with that! With Blaine we can truly write the most breathtaking movie Hollywood will ever see! It's just like we dreamed guys!"

Artie looked at Puck questioningly. "But how are we going to convince Sylvester?"

Finn, oddly enough, had a plan. "Porcelain. We dress Blaine up in the finest tux we can find, maybe gel down his hair and make him prim looking and we will pass him off as a famous playwright from the Big Apple itself. We'll let Blaine read a bit of his poetry to Porcelain, woo Porcelain with his words and then Porcelain will convince Sylvester to let the show happen!"

I stood there, staring and heard my father's words pop back into my head. "Whenever you get over your silly infatuation with boys, then you can return home, if I hear of you canoodling with any male though, you will forever be cut off from your inheritance."

"I-I can't write a show for an all-male strip club! I'm not even sure if I can write a play at all and sell it."

The guys gave a collective gasp before Puck cocked an eyebrow and asked, "Are you homophobic?"

"What? No! I-I'm gay." The words fell out of my mouth before I could stop them and I looked away quickly waiting for the leering comments to begin.

Instead I heard Artie say, "Well, that might work to our advantage! Instead of pretending to woo Porcelain, you can actually woo him. As for writing, let me ask you this. Do you believe in beauty?"

"Yes."

"Freedom?"

"Yes, of course."

"Truth?"

"Yes."

"Love?"

"Love? Love, above all things I believe in love. Love is like oxygen, love is a many splendid thing, love lifts us up where we belong, all you need is love!"

"See, you can't fool us!" Puck said. "You're a writer, through and through. This stuff is the blood in your veins!"

It was a fool proof plan. I was to audition for Porcelain. Also that night; I was to taste my first glass of Absinthe. Absinthe was a type of alcohol that was completely illegal in the United States and I had a feeling that Puck got it shipped straight from Mexico. It was a devilish drink, going down hotly and pooling in your belly, causing strange hallucinations and all around good feelings. The alcohol content was through the roof and I had no idea what I was in for.

* * *

After the Absinthe began to wear off enough where we could function properly we were off to Suspenders. Puck had called in for a favor from a friend who he said, 'owed him', and we found ourselves seated in a sleek black stretch limousine. I was dressed in a tux borrowed from Artie who was the closest to my height. I looked around at the other passengers of the car, people who I had met just a few short hours ago, but whom I felt I had known for years. Sam was dressed in a tux with tails, his blonde hair slicked to the side and his bangs up and out of his face.

Puck was wearing a black tux, his baby blue cummerbund drawing just a little less attention than he Mohawk that he was so proud of.

Artie sat next to Finn, both of whom were dressed to the nines, black tuxes and bowties, ready for a night of rubbing shoulders with people who had more money than they would ever know what to do with.

Then there was me. I was dressed in a black tux with sleek lapels, a silver cummerbund around my waist. My bowtie was silver, matching the cufflinks on my sleeves. Sam had slicked my hair back, my curls tamed for the night, sitting under the sleek black top hat that sat perched on my head. My calloused fingers were hidden by white silk gloves and clutched in my hand was something that I was referring to in my head as my pimp cane. I didn't dare ask how they had the money for outfits this nice, instead, chalked it up as another 'favor' someone owed Puck.

According to Finn I screamed money and no one would think twice about me being led away by the very good looking Porcelain at the end of the night.

That was the one thing no one would tell me about, Porcelain. He was a dancer, Sylvester's best, and the most expensive man on the stage. He was basically his own show. Men came from far and near to see him perform, but only a select few ever got to go backstage with him. The price was steep, but Puck assured me that Finn had set up a time in which I would be allowed to read some of my writings to Porcelain in hopes that he would convince Sue to put on  _Spectacular, Spectacular._

We arrived at Suspenders, and walking in I gasped slightly at the mixture of people in there. There were men and women, celebrities that I knew and recognized sitting at tables around the place, holding onto glasses of wine and champagne. Sam leaned over and whispered in my ear at my shocked reaction. "Sue has both women and men dancers, she caters to everyone's taste, that's why she has so many places in business. Suspenders is made up mainly of male dancers, but once Porcelain comes out, you'll understand why so many people come. As for the fact that there are A-list celebrities here, there's a no-tell policy here. They don't tell the press that you're here, you pretend you didn't see them either. There's been a time or two where word's leaked to the press, but this place is so upscale that no one actually cares if you're here."


	2. Porcelain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to Suspenders.

We made our way to our seats, a private booth in the back with a perfect view of the stage. We had glasses of champagne in our hands as the house lights fell and three spotlights shone on the immense dance floor.

_Voulez-vous coucher avec moi? C'est soir._

Out of one of the doors came a girl with dark brown hair wearing a pink bra and a tiny hot pink skirt. She was wearing a pair of heels so high that I wasn't sure how she was standing. Her voice was gorgeous, a bit gritty, which suited her well. "Santana" Puck whispered in my ear, "One of the few girls you'll see on that stage tonight."

_He met Marmalade down in old Moulin Rouge, strutting her stuff on the street._

A blonde girl in an outfit that matched Santana's except for the fact that she was dressed in lime green came out of another door. She smirked out at the crowd, dipping low and swinging her hair around, receiving cheers and catcalls from the men. "This one's Brittany" Sam told me. "She's the best dancer I've seen pretty much ever."

_She said hello, hey Joe, you wanna give it a go?_

Another blonde girl, but with shorter hair, entered the dance floor through the middle door, dressed in a black bra and skirt, along with thigh high leather boots. She walked on the dance floor as if she owned the entire place. "Quinn" Sam said in my ear. "She's the ringleader of the trio; they call them the Unholy Trinity."

_Gitchy gitchy ya ya da da. Gitchy gitchy ya ya here. Mocha choca latta ya ya, creole Lady Marmalade._ _Voulez-vous_ _coucher_ _avec_ _moi_ _, se_ _soir_ _?_ _Voulez-vous_ _cocher_ _avec_ _moi_ _?_

The three girls advanced on the floor, harmonies running amok into the crowd as Sue Sylvester walked out behind them, dressed in a red suit and holding a black riding crop. The three girls danced towards the poles in the middle of the stage, swinging themselves around them as the Dirty Dolls and other dancers filed onto the dance floor along with them.

The lights flashed, music blared and I felt like I was experiencing a sensory overload. The Dirty Dolls really were some of the best looking men I had ever set my sights on. There were men of every ethnicity, shirtless with some type of paint on their bodies. They were wearing only tight short shorts of every imaginable color and I'm pretty sure I was drooling. The music changed, a dance beat taking over that I recognized as Ke$ha. The lights went out completely and then black lights came on. The odd-looking paint that was on the dancers' bodies was black light paint, swirling around their torsos and legs in hypnotizing patterns.

The people in the crowd flooded onto the floor; dancing against the strippers, hot skin melding as the bass thumped through their veins. Puck and Sam nearly fell out of their chairs as Santana, Brittany and Quinn let their skirts fall to the floor, revealing lacy underwear that left little to the imagination.

Finn leaned across the table as a new song blared through the sound system, bodies on the dance floor grinding against one another. "Blaine, I've secured a meeting with you and Porcelain after the show for you, totally alone."

"Totally alone?" I swallowed, my heart rising into my chest.

"Totally alone."

What we didn't know though, was that in the booth next to us, a similar conversation was being held.

* * *

Jesse St. James, known as 'The Duke' to most, was being promised time alone with Porcelain. Sue sat there, watching the face of the person who may be her new investor slowly turn into a grin. "Totally alone?" He asked, stroking his chin with his hand.

"Completely and utterly alone my dear Duke. As soon as the show is over I will have someone usher you to his private quarters."

"Well then Sue, I better enjoy myself or I may take my investment somewhere else."

"Oh dear Duke, trust me, Porcelain never displeases."

* * *

Suddenly the lights went out and the music stopped. A single spotlight shone down from the ceiling and a flutter of silver confetti and smoke fell from the rafters. A person suspended in the air was slowly being lowered and after reaching halfway between the ceiling and floor he began to sing. " _The French are glad to die for love_.  _They delight in fighting duels. But I prefer a man who lives and gives expensive jewels._ "

I sucked in a deep breath as his countertenor voice buzzed through the air, electrifying every one of my nerves. He was breathtakingly beautiful. I could see now why they called him Porcelain, his crème colored skin shimmered pale in the spotlight. His lips and cheeks were tinged pink and his eyes shone bright and blue. My eyes raked across his chest and abs. He was well-built, but not overly muscular like many of the other Dolls on the floor. He was dressed in silver sequined shorts, a diamond studded bowtie and a black top hat sat perched on his head. What caught my attention most though were the diamond studded heels that were strapped onto his feet. How on earth could he possibly walk in those things, I wondered.

Suddenly the sounds of a band broke through the sound system, trumpets and trombones leading the melody. Porcelain was being swung around in the air as he continued to sing, slowly being lowered to the stage.

" _A kiss on the hand may be, quite continental, but diamonds are a girl's best friend. A kiss may be grand, but it, won't pay the rental. On your humble flat, or help you feed your, pussycat."_

Everyone was crowding around him, strutting across the stage, playing up the crowd. Money was being held up to him but he just smirked and kept on walking. He was flawless in the heels, walking in them as if he were born in them, dancing in between the girls on the stage. He thrust his hips forward on 'pussycat' and gave a low growl and that's when I knew I was a goner. "See what we meant?" Puck said grinning, leaning across the table to me. "There's no possible way that anyone could put into words how magnificent he is. He makes grown men question their sexuality."

Considering how turned on I was already by the short amount of time Porcelain had been performing, I could see that.

Porcelain wrapped himself around a pole, throwing a leg around it and dipping low as he continued singing.

" _Men grow cold as girls grow old; we all lose our charms in the end. But square cut or pear shaped, these rocks don't lose their shape, diamonds are a girl's best friend."_

A few of the dancers picked Porcelain up off the stage and carried him over to where a gentleman was holding out a diamond necklace. Porcelain plucked it from his hand, smirking and pressing a kiss to the man's cheek before being set on the ground.

He strutted through the crowd, hips swaying as hands grabbed and fingers touched. "Tiffany's! Cartier! ' _Cause we are living in a material world and I am a material girl."_

He grinned and beckoned to the dancers "come and get me boys!" He was picked up by the crowd, legs in the air as they passed him back to the stage. "Talk to me Sue Sylvester, tell me all about it!"

Sue joined Porcelain onstage, smacking him with her riding crop, eliciting a sharp 'oh' from him.

Porcelain continued to sing, dancing around Sue at the same time.  _"There may come a time when a lass needs a lawyer, but diamonds are a girl's best friend. There may come a time when a hard-boiled employer thinks you're awful nice."_

Sue dangled the largest diamond I had ever seen in front of Porcelain's face and he swatted at it playfully, little moans of disappointment leaving his mouth.

* * *

Puck said something about needing to talk to someone and stood to leave, knocking into a server. Drinks spilled all over the person occupying the booth next to ours.

"I'm so sorry!" I heard Puck say and turned to see him dabbing at the angry gentleman with a napkin. He turned to me, reaching for the handkerchief in my pocket, "Blaine I need to borrow this!"

* * *

On stage Porcelain was dancing around with Sue, grinning at the crowd. "Is the Duke here?" He asked, twirling around a pole.

"Yes he's the, oh god, he's the one Puck is shaking a napkin at."

Porcelain turned and narrowed his eyes at the back wall. "Oh, are you sure that's him?"

* * *

Puck continued wiping at the Duke's clothes, apologizing profusely before the Duke pushed him away. "Fine you bourgeois pig, clean yourself off!" Puck yelled, throwing the napkin at the Duke before being accosted by security. "Sorry, sorry, I'll return to my table now!"

We sat there watching as the dancers gathered in a circle around Sue and Porcelain, holding a black sheet in front of them.

* * *

"Will he invest?" Porcelain asked, his eyes brightening.

"Babe, after spending the night with you, how could he refuse?"

Porcelain smirked, knowing Sue was right. "What's his type? Wilted flower?" Porcelain dropped his face, eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks. "Sweet and slow?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow sensually. "Or smoldering devil?" He finished the phrase off in a growl, sucking the corner of his bottom lip between his teeth.

"Smoldering devil." Sue replied, grinning wildly. "We're all relying on you Porcelain. Remember? A real show, in a real theater, with a real audience."

"And I'll be a real actor." Porcelain whispered, eyes shining wetly.

* * *

Suddenly they popped back up, Porcelain now wearing a tux jacket with tails, embellished with diamonds. " _And that's when the louses go back to their spouses; diamonds are a girl's best friend!"_

The crowd carried him, seated in a chair, across the floor, as he searched for a person to dance with. They spun him until he pointed in our direction, coming closer every moment. As the song drew to a close on the final "friend" I turned in time to watch him arrive at our table, soft white flesh in front of my face. I couldn't help but to glance down and see the large bulge in the front of pants which made me grow achingly hard in my own pants.

He turned, smiling, to the crowd and threw out his arms. "'I'm afraid it's my choice tonight gentlemen!" he turned back to me, pointing as the crowd cheered me on, Puck and Finn throwing slaps on my back. Porcelain fixed me in his stare before whispering, "I believe you were expecting me."

My brain short-circuited momentarily before I breathed out, "yes, yes I was."

Before I knew it, I was being swept out of my seat and onto the dance floor, pressed against Porcelain amid clapping and cheers.


	3. Your Song

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mix-ups and songs, oh my!

I had no idea what I was doing. Lights were flashing all around me, music was thumping through the sound system and bodies were throbbing on the dance floor.

I had come here to be a writer, yet somehow here I was on the dance floor of a high end gentlemen's club, dancing with their star. Porcelain whirled and twirled around me, the diamonds embedded in his waistcoat shining in the lights. A grin lit up has face as he danced against me, his arms sliding along my arms and back. I watched him as he moved his lithe and graceful body around the dance floor, his skin changing hues as the lights flashed from one color to the next.

"Sue says you are here about the movie." Porcelain's words landed on my ear soft and quiet, surprising me and sending a slight shiver down my spine.

"Y-yes" I stammered, caught off guard by the blue eyes gazing down at me.

"Then I will see you tonight dear Duke. Au revoir." With those words Porcelain turned on his heel and walked away, slipping between a couple of people.

"Wait!" I cried, reaching out to try and stop him before he left. "I'm not a Duke!" I pushed between people on the floor, trying to find the way that Porcelain had went. It seemed it was too late; he was nowhere to be found.

The music quieted as the lights dimmed and a strong countertenor rang across the room. "Diamonds!"

Everyone turned towards the voice that was coming from the center of the room. There Porcelain sat on the black velvet swing, being slowly lifted to the ceiling as he continued to sing.

"Diamonds are a girl's best friend!" Porcelain grinned as he rose higher and higher, the crowd awestruck in his presence. Suddenly his eyes went wide as he lost his balance and fell, tumbling backwards off the seat. Two of the Dolls caught him before he could hit the floor and carried him backstage.

* * *

"Out of the way,  _out_ of the way!" Sue yelled, pushing stagehands aside as she rushed towards Porcelain. She knelt next to the couch he had been laid upon where Quinn was patting his forehead with a damp cloth and checking his heart rate.

He took in a shuddering breath as he came to, his eyes slowly focusing on the faces in the room with him. "I swear to god Sue, these men are going to kill me" he groaned, propping himself up on one arm.

"My god Kurt" Sue replied, so worried about him that she dropped his stage name. "You scared me to death!"

"It's these damn heels" he complained, rolling his eyes. "They make my ass look good but I swear they cut off my circulation."

"Take them off then, don't wear shoes for the Duke, I'm sure he won't mind."

Porcelain smirked up at her. "He'll be too busy looking at the rest of me to even care what's on my feet."

"That's what I like to hear! I've got to go take care of the ravenous men on the dance floor; you go get ready for the Duke!"

* * *

We watched as Sue walked back through the curtains behind the DJ. "You've scared him off" she explained, her words followed by complaints from the people on the floor. "Don't fear though, there are plenty of Dirty Dolls and Fallen Angels to go around!"

With those words, the DJ promptly began to play music, attempting to entice people back out onto the dance floor.

I turned around when I felt a light tapping on my shoulder. "It's time" Finn grinned at me. "Go woo Porcelain, get him in line for the show!"

* * *

Porcelain lived alone in the penthouse which was located in the top of the oversized top hat that was perched on the top of the club. I had quickly found my way to his room; it was quite simple once I realized it was at the end of the only corridor back that way. I had quietly entered his room and stood there waiting for him to arrive. I used this time to look around his room. A cliché, heart-shaped bed sat in the corner and appeared to have white silk and black velvet sheets. The curtains were red velvet and hid a balcony that held a gorgeous view of the city. A white leather couch sat against the west wall and opposite of a large, flat screen TV.

As I was inspecting the Warhol paining on the wall I heard a door click close. I turned to see Porcelain standing there, a vision that set my heart beating faster. He was dressed in red shorts and had traded his black waistcoat for a red one. His hands were covered in white gloves and a black top hat sat on his head. His eyes glittered dangerously as he fixed the red bowtie around his neck and stepped more fully into the room.

He picked up a glass of champagne from the table, offering one to me as well that I politely declined. Best to keep my wits up about me, I thought. "Shall we begin?" he asked, raising an eyebrow seductively.

I cleared my throat as a new wave of panic set in. "Right, so um, over here is fine?" I asked, gesturing to a corner of the room. "You-you can sit if you like, it's quite long."

Porcelain opened his mouth but promptly closed it again, apparently deciding to keep his thought to himself.

I took in a deep breath before I began. "It's a little bit funny, this feeling inside. I don't have much money but boy if I did, I'd buy a big house where we both could live. If I were a sculptor, but then again, no. Or a man who makes potions a traveling show. I know it's not much, but it's the best that I can do." I stole a glance at Porcelain who had a confused look on his face before I began again.

" _My gift is my song, and this one's for you._ " Porcelain slid to the edge of the bed, leaning forward on his hands.

" _And you can tell everybody, that this is your song. It may be quite simple, now that it's done. I hope you don't mind, I hope you don't mind, that I put down in words, how wonderful life is, now you're in the world._ "

At that moment I realized how much those words were true. I was supposed to woo Porcelain, yet sometime during the night I had fallen hard for him.

Suddenly Porcelain was standing, taking one of my hands as I continued to sing.

" _Sat on the roof and I kicked off the moss. Some of these verses, well they've got me quite cross. But the sun's been kind, while I wrote this song. It's for people like you that keep it turned on._ "

Slowly we began to waltz around the room, neither really leading the other, simply doing what felt right.

" _So excuse me for forgetting, but these things I do. You see, I've forgotten if they're green or they're blue. And well the thing is, what I really mean, yours are the sweetest eyes I've ever seen._ "

At that moment Porcelain's bright blue eyes locked on mine and I felt as if my heart had stopped. A man could get lost in those eyes.

" _And you can tell everybody, this is your song. It may be quite simple, not that it's done. I hope you don't mind, I hope you don't mind that I put down in words, how wonderful life is now you're in the world._ "

I leaned towards him, lips nearing, the moment perfect when suddenly a loud knock came at the door. "Porcelain? Are you in there? The Duke is here to see you!" Sue yelled through the door, startling us both.

Porcelain pushed away from me frantically. "If the Duke is out there then who – oh god, you're one of Finn's writers aren't you?"


	4. Seasons May Change

My eyes widened as I realized that I needed to hide, and quick. I ducked under the closest table, peeking through the linen too see Porcelain answer the door, smirking as Mr Saint James entered the room. "Good evening my dear Duke," Porcelain purred, his voice rolling out of his throat like silk. "To what do I owe this lovely surprise?"

I stifled a laugh; the Duke's face was one of the most comical things I had seen in a long time, oblivious to the fact that Porcelain in fact, was making fun of him. He strode across the room, pressing a kiss to Porcelain's hand and smiling, reminding me of the Cheshire cat from  _Through the Looking Glass_.

Porcelain should have been nominated for an Oscar what with his performance, flirting daintily, all batted eyelashes and pursed lips.

I watched from under the table as Sue scurried around, pouring flutes of champagne for the two of them, discussing her deal with the Duke. If he was the only one allowed to see Porcelain then Porcelain would become an actor, a true rag to riches story. I held my breath wanting to cry out the injustice of it all, a man being practically sold from one owner to another, much like a pet, promising something good for both in return.

I stayed in my hiding place, biting back my tongue as I watched the exchange, the Duke staring down Porcelain hungrily. If it hadn't been for Sue's presence in the room I would have feared that the Duke would have taken Porcelain right there with no qualms. I watched as Porcelain forced his way through the stilted conversation, his eyes flickering to where I remained hidden as if her were terrified the table would suddenly disappear. It seemed that Sue finally sensed Porcelain's uneasiness at being drooled over like a piece of meat so openly and she began to make excuses to lead the Duke away. "Porcelain needs his rest now, big day tomorrow and all that. He has a brand new act just for you, you know?"

"Does he now?" The Duke grinned, raking his eyes across Porcelain's body. The Duke kissed Porcelain's hand and grinning, left the room after Sue.

As soon as the door clicked shut I was rising from my hiding place, glancing at Porcelain where he stood. "How do you put up with that?" I asked, my hands sitting on my hips.

"I do what I must," was his curt reply, eyes cast downwards.

"They're treating you like you're cattle being sold from one hand to another! It's inhumane!"

"It's show business, Blaine," Porcelain replied, sinking onto his bed.

"But why do you let them? Don't you have a free will?"

"You wouldn't understand," he said lowly, turning away from me.

"Try me," I said softly, sitting next to him on the bed.

"This is the only way I can get out of here. The Duke is the only movie mogul willing to hire a stripper like me."

"But look at the price you're paying for it, indebting yourself to him. Leave, you can come live with me, we can forge our own path."

Porcelain scoffed, eyes disbelieving. "Even if I knew you better, which mind you, we just met, I couldn't just go off. This is the only way I know how to make my living." He sat pensively for a moment before adding, "The penniless playwright and the stripper. They could make a movie out of our lives."

"Think about this then, I'm going to leave my script on your table, my cell number scrawled at the top. You read it and then decide if you still want the Duke to get you out of here."

Porcelain smiled softly, his hand reaching out to capture mine. "Thank you for your offer Blaine, but I'll most likely decline, please don't get your hopes up."

I inclined my head so that he saw I understood and rose from the bed. "I'll see you around Porcelain; at least I know where to find you for the next few days."

He blushed lightly, nodding his head and pointedly looking out the window as I left. I took another long look at him, trying to memorize what I could, knowing this would possibly be the last time I would see him this way. "Goodbye Porcelain," I spoke softly as the door shut behind me.

I trudged home, hailing a cab after I could see straight again, my vision no longer blurred in anger. I went home not knowing the tears Porcelain was crying, his resolve shattering after I left. I knew only the stabbing pain in my chest at seeing someone so beautiful, so valuable being used and broken for another man's will.

I walked blindly up the stairs to my flat, stomach churning from the mix of alcohol and hatred towards the Duke. I faintly heard the sounds of Finn and the others upstairs, perfecting some musical number or the other.

I made my way to my bed, stripping out of my tux and falling onto the mattress, cool sheets a welcome reprieve from the mugginess of the day. I tossed and turned in bed that night, nightmares of traps and evil hunters chasing a beautiful white rabbit through the woods, hounds snapping at it, right on its trail.


	5. Winter to Spring

I was sitting in my apartment, typing lazily at some idea that had popped into my head, not really engaging my brain when my mobile rang. I looked at the screen and didn't recognise the number so I flipped it open warily. "Hello?" I answered, sitting up in my chair.

"Blaine Anderson?" a vaguely familiar voice asked.

"Yeah, that's me; may I ask who is calling?"

"Sue Sylvester from the Moulin Rouge."

Oh shit, I figured I had been found out and she was calling to tell me never to set foot in her establishment again.

"Hello Mrs Sylvester, how may I help you?"

I heard her pause on her end before sighing. "Mr Anderson, I have in my hands a copy of your script to 'Spectacular, Spectacular'. I talked with Porcelain, who had it in his room and our financier, Mr Saint James and we have decided we would like to extend the offer to you and whoever else has had a hand in this script to put it on at the soon to be remodelled Moulin Rouge."

I was so excited I almost let out a yell right then and there. I took in a breath to steady myself. "Mrs Sylvester-"

"Please, call me Sue."

"Sue then, I really appreciate that. What time would you like us to meet you and your actors and actresses for a read through?"

"Today at three would fit wonderfully with our schedule."

"Great! We'll see you then." I hung up the phone and this time I did yell, pumping my fist in the air as I realised, we did it, we actually did it! I raced out of my apartment and up the stairs to the apartment Finn, Sam, Puck, and Artie shared. I pounded on the door until it opened and almost fell into Finn. "Dude, it's like ten in the morning. Why all the noise?"

"Finn, get the others up! I have important news!" I pushed past him, running into the apartment and yelling. "Puck! Artie! Sam! Get up this is big; this is very, very big!"

Twenty minutes and five steaming cups of coffee later, we all were seated on the various couches and chairs they pulled into a big circle as I recounted the story of the earlier phone call I had received.

"So she just called to tell you that we're going to be allowed to put the show on? Do we need to make any tweaks in the script, since you and Porcelain will be playing opposite of one another?" Artie asked, throwing me off guard.

"What?" I mumbled, barely managing not to spill coffee onto my front.

"Well, obviously you'll play the lead male we have and we need Porcelain to be the star, that's what will get the people to come. Everyone likes Porcelain, men and women alike."

"But he's gay," I managed, still trying to wrap my head around what they wanted from me.

"Doesn't mean the ladies can't look," Puck grinned.

I shifted in my seat slightly; imagining what 'Spectacular, Spectacular' would look like with two male parts. "Well obviously a few pronouns will have to be changed here and there and we'll have to change the name from Elisabeth to perhaps Eric."

Finn grinned at all of us. "See, I told you, he's perfect, he knows exactly what we need! You don't mind playing the part of Michael then?"

To get to kiss Porcelain in front of the Duke and everyone else? No, I didn't mind at all. "I don't mind as long as you are fine with it. I'll audition though so that they can't say we pre-planned parts or something like that."

"But we are," Finn said and we all laughed.

Three in the afternoon came more quickly than I expected. I had made a few copies of parts of the script so that we could follow along when people auditioned, letting them read certain roles to see where they'd fit. Although we knew what role Porcelain would play, we still had to have him read other parts and for others to read the part of Elisabeth/Eric.

When we arrived at the Moulin Rouge I stopped to take in how different the place looked in daytime. No flashing lights or glitter everywhere, just a red building that almost seemed to fit in with the colours of the city around it.

Sue met us at the front door and led us in front of the stage where she had set up a table and seven chairs. I realised this meant the Duke was planning on being there, wonderful. We took our seats and I handed out the scripts to the six of us that were there and separated the rest for the people to audition with. At five minutes after three the Duke appeared, apologising and shaking our hands in turn. I hated even touching the man, knowing what I did about why exactly this show was being allowed to be produced. He spread out a few plans to show us, expanding the stage and adding plush theatre seats, turning it into a respectable theatre. He told us the large sums we each would be paid, plus the pay for any and all actors and actresses, including their costumes. It added up to be quite a large amount and I began to understand why Sue would be willing to give up Porcelain for this.

I explained to them the two ways that the story could go until Mr St James cut me off; telling me that Porcelain would be getting the part of Eric, end of story. I argued at first, saying that it should be fair for everyone, although I knew we'd give him the part anyway, I just didn't want Mr St James to get the idea that he had any actual say in the process regarding the show itself. I finally agreed, but explained that Porcelain would still have to go through the same audition process as everyone else. He huffed and puffed but finally sat down in his chair as Sue pulled out the list of people auditioning and called out the first name. "Santana Lopez!"

One of the girls from the night before walked out in a short black dress and tall black stilettos. Her hair was straight and fell past her shoulders, tanned skin and dark eyes accentuated by the red lipstick she wore. I handed her a few pages of the script and asked her to read a few lines of three parts, Anna, Eric's best friend, Maria, a smaller background part, and Jessica, the count's daughter.

She did magnificently on all three but I put her name next to Jessica, the part called for sex appeal and she certainly exuded that.

Next up was Quinn Fabray, the blonde girl that had been the ringleader the night before. She did as well as Santana and I came to realise it was going to be difficult to give out parts to everyone.

Actor after actor came onto the stage to read through, most showing interest in the show, a few that I could tell were only there because Sue had requested that each person auditioned if they expected to remain on her payroll. Those that looked like they absolutely hated it were slotted into dancing roles and stage crew.

Finally it was my turn and I smiled as I read the lines I had written, singing a part even, so that Sue and the Duke could see that I honestly had talent. As I stepped offstage and glanced at the list I knew who was last. Porcelain. The Duke had asked him to perform last so that he wouldn't be lumped with what the Duke referred to as 'lesser talent'.

As he walked onstage, it was apparent he had read the script and foreseen the changes. He wore a simple black and white tuxedo, his hair coiffed perfectly, smiling behind a pair of glasses that looked perfect on him somehow. He stepped centre stage and cleared his throat. "Hello, my name is Porcelain and I'll be auditioning for the part of Eric."

I ran through some lines with him, but I knew he would be perfect, just as I had imagined. After his audition we thanked him and sent him back to where the others were waiting. I turned to Sue and the Duke. "We're going to need about twenty minutes to piece together who gets what role, is that alright?"

Sue and the Duke moved to her office to discuss a few things for the new theatre as we debated over minor roles. It was going to be a tough decision, most of those who auditioned were brilliant in multiple roles and we had no idea where to fit them in. After a few heated arguments and paper tossing we had compiled a list of parts and who they went to.

Sue and the Duke came back right after I had finished writing down the last name to see if we were ready. I told her to call out the name I gave her and we would give them their part and a copy of the script that the Duke ad produced for us.

Porcelain was first and we gladly handed him a script and the role of Eric as he smirked down at the Duke and winked in my direction. Jessica went to Santana, Maria to a girl named Rachel that Finn had really liked and Anna to Quinn. Everyone who showed up was given a part, even if it had only one or two lines and those who had minor parts were asked to help with the set and costumes.

I wasn't sure what the Duke's reaction would be to me receiving the part of Michael, but he merely glared down in my direction.

We shook hands and said our thanks, setting up a first actual read through the next day. Finn, Puck, Sam and I headed out before I realised I had forgotten my own script and headed back.

I stopped outside the doorway upon hearing voices in a heated argument. After a few seconds of listening I recognised the Duke's and Sue's voices in a angry discussion. "No, he gets the part! It doesn't matter that you don't like it. We need him Jesse."

"Sue, I don't like the fact that he's playing the love interest to Porcelain, something feels off to me!"

"Jesse, nothing is off, you sound paranoid. Everything will be fine. You have my word."

"Right, well Sue, if anything does go amiss; I'm holding you personally accountable."

I heard them moving towards me so I ducked into a supply closet and waited for their voices to disappear down the hall before I ran to grab my script and jogged back to the waiting cab. I replayed the conversation I had overheard and wondered why the Duke disliked me so much. It was almost as if he knew what my feelings towards Porcelain entailed. It didn't matter, I would act normal, hold in my feelings and my tongue as well when it came to what I thought of Jesse St. James.


	6. I Want to Vanish Inside Your Kiss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut within, you have been warned.

It had been a long day for the actors and actresses of 'Spectacular, Spectacular'. Sue had told us that the stage had to be ready for the show and that Porcelain and her other dancers would need at least two hours of rest between rehearsals and show time so that they could get ready in a proper amount of time.

I had told everyone to meet at ten am, meaning most of the Suspenders crew had received seven hours or less of sleep and as they trickled in, most were nursing large quantities of coffee or tea, anything that held caffeine. It was strange to see them all in normal clothes, most wearing sweat pants and tank tops with the exclusion of Porcelain, who was clad in a pair of form-fitting leggings and an overly large tee shirt that hung mid-thigh. His usually clear eyes were a bit cloudy as he sat in one of the folding chairs provided, hanging on to his cup as if it were his lifeline.

I broke everyone into three different groups, one that would start out working on lines, one that would be measured for costumes, and the last was working on music. We had decided not to worry about choreography yet, deciding to wait until lines had been memorised and all musical numbers had been run through by voice only first.

Porcelain and I were together, seeing as I figured that we were playing opposite of one another, it would make it easier to run our lines. Everyone else had been grouped together according to their characters except for Santana, Quinn, and Brittany who seemed to do nothing without each other.

It was brilliant, the way Porcelain brought the character to life, emphasising some words and softening others, words flowing out and forming the character in ways I hadn't even thought about. He and I meshed well together, playing off of one another and before I knew it, our time running lines was over and we were making our way to the back of the room that had been designated for the costume department, as I had dubbed them in an attempt to make them feel better about not having speaking parts.

Porcelain was oddly quiet as his measurements were taken, holding his arms out and sighing softly as if he did this every day. "Honestly. You guys have my measurements in the back; don't see the need of wasting the time."

"Porcelain," one of the girls said, the one currently wrapping a measure ribbon around his calf, "we're just doing what they asked."

It struck me as odd that no one seemed to know Porcelain's real name, almost as if it had been stripped from him when he took his stage name.

When they were finished measuring us we were able to take a break for a bit, until it was time to rotate to the third station. I pulled a chair over next to Porcelain. "Thanks for having Sue read the script and all."

Porcelain smiled and I was struck at the depth of colour in his eyes. "I read it and thought it was well-written. You'd shudder to read some of the scripts sent in for our remodelling, most from playwrights that are close friends to the Duke. Then again I'm sure you've noticed his tastelessness anyway." Porcelain rolled his eyes, shifting in his chair.

"He's worse than a Sears's catalogue, that's for sure," I laughed, causing Porcelain to break out in a grin.

"And oh, our playwright has a sense of humour too. Good-looking and witty, what a catch," he laughed, eyes shining.

I opened my mouth, about to retort when someone called time and we made our way over to the piano, breaking up by vocal range to work on harmonies. Porcelain stood off to the side, the only countertenor in the group and one of the main soloists along with me. I decided to group him with the small tenor section, needing him to carry the quieter ones through.

Overall the group did well, taking to the music easily, most having at least good pitch, one or two mainly off-key, but with the positions and mic-ing there wouldn't be a problem.

Porcelain and I had asked Brad, our piano player, to stay behind for a bit so that we could practice our solos. As everyone said their goodbyes I tried to figure out how to talk to Porcelain, knowing these one-on-one sessions would be the only way to unravel his layers and break down his walls.

I'd heard Porcelain sing before, the night I first set eyes on him and the Moulin Rouge, but that was nothing compared to the way he sang with me, only a piano accompanying us. In that moment I could hear how the deep, rich tones of my tenor melded with his crisp, higher notes and blended together in harmony. It was amazing to watch him sing, eyes closed, smiling, and swaying to the music, almost if he'd start to waltz at any moment.

The time flew by as we practiced, Porcelain learning his solo lines within a moment or two and playing off me as we sang in the dim corner of the room, almost as if we were the sole inhabitants of the Earth. Minutes turned into hours and soon Brad was apologising for having to leave, telling us he was glad to be a part of this.

Porcelain and I sat in a couple of chairs, discussing a few stage directions he thought should be changed for our characters. He thought that in the second act, when the count's son was meeting up with Eric that we should move closer to one another, acting a little more into each other than necessary for the audience's sake.

A silence fell upon us for a moment until Porcelain spoke the words that changed our whole dynamic. "My name is Kurt."

I stared at him momentarily, not quite sure what he meant at first.

"My name is Kurt, Kurt Hummel," he said again, looking up at me almost if he were afraid. "No one here knows, they basically stripped me of my name when I joined here. The Duke doesn't even know it."

I knew this was important, but how does one reply to something as big as that? "Well, Kurt, it's nice to meet you. Name's Blaine Anderson."

Kurt smiled softly, twisting his hands together in his lap. "I don't know why I'm telling you any of this, but I trust you. I'm originally from Ohio, Lima to be exact."

My mouth dropped open; Kurt was from the same area I was. "I, Lima? I lived an hour from there. I went to Dalton."

It was Kurt's turn to blink rapidly at me, mouth working in silence. "I went to Lima High; we might have passed one another and never knew it."

"I don't know I don't think I could have passed you and not noticed," I said honestly, if I had passed Kurt I would have known.

"Please," he sighed, "I learned to blend in, how to stay under the radar of most people. I usually just got thrown in the dumpster on the first day of school. Welcome back ritual from the football team."

I looked over at him, eyes downcast as he recounted the events of his teenage years. "I was lucky," I told him, "Dalton had a no bullying policy so those of us that were out lived in comfort, not worrying about any of that. But before then, I, well I was beat. That's why I transferred to Dalton; I couldn't take it, having to look at the guys that sent me to the hospital every day for the rest of my high school career."

Kurt's eyes widened as he listened to my story, the words I'd held in for so long, and the story that had slowly eaten away at me making its way out of my system. "I never had it that bad," he managed to say, eyes shining with tears. "I couldn't imagine what you went through Blaine."

"It's not worse than you being forced to marry someone you don't want to," I replied placing a hand over his.

He sighed resignedly, "I don't want to, but what other choice do I really have? I can't stand him, he's repulsive, but I need this, I need to get out of here."

I had opened my mouth to reply when suddenly he was kissing me, a hand sliding into my curls. I kissed back, melting into the feel of his lips against mine, leaning into it, my hand coming up to cup his face. He pulled away and I sighed at the loss of his mouth. "I shouldn't have done that, I'm sorry," he whispered, red tinting his cheeks lightly.

"It's okay," I replied more quickly than I wanted to, wanting more than anything to feel his lips pressed against mine again.

He looked at me; head cocked slightly to the side before he grabbed a fistful of my shirt and pressed me against the chair I was in, kissing me hard. I felt the need and want hidden in the kiss, both of us wanting whatever we could take in this moment. Rushing headfirst into the tumult of emotions crashing upon us I pulled him down to me, fitting him onto my lap. I ran a hand under the tee shirt he was wearing, it having bunched up after he straddled my legs. I touched the soft skin, my thumb brushing across string ab muscles. My other hand landed on his thigh, toned muscles standing out, proof of his life as a dancer, rock hard thigh muscles pressed into tight calves.

I thumbed a nipple, causing him to arch into me, a gasp escaping my mouth as I felt his erection press against my own. In that second it was almost as if a switch flipped in my mind, everything shutting down except for the neurons that were transmitting  _lustlustlust_ and  _wanthimwanthim_.

I had to touch him, my hand moving of its own accord as I palmed him lightly through the light layers of his leggings and pants. A moan escaped through his lips as I pressed harder against his cock, sucking lightly on his tongue.

I slid my hand beneath his waistband, fingers brushing against the head of his erection, smearing the few drops that had gathered there.

"You know," he groaned, "I've been fondled, leered at, and even paid for, but no one has ever cared enough to just talk to me."

"Apparently I'm a new breed then. I'd love to know everything about you."

"Talk later," Kurt growled, pressing into my hand that was stroking his cock lightly, my fingers breezing lightly over the skin. "Can we…" he trailed off, glancing at me through his tantalisingly thick eyelashes. There was no way I could say no to him, he had enraptured me, captured my senses. I had drunk from the forbidden cup and found there was no sweeter taste in the world.

I nodded numbly, my mind melting into a lusty haze as he stood and tugged his leggings and pants off, his cock jutting away from his body.

I licked my lips nervously as he made his way back onto my lap, unzipping my denims and popping the button, tugging them and my pants down my hips, just enough to where he could rut against me, our cocks sliding together with heated friction.

I gasped in short, uneven breaths as he stuck a slender finger into his mouth and licked it in a way that could only be described as wickedly. I moaned as he reached behind himself, pressing the spit-slicked finger into his hole, grinding down on it obscenely.

Within a few moments he was reaching back around and grabbing my cock in his hand and lining it up with his entrance, sinking down on it without a second's hesitation, tight heat surrounding my cock as he slid further on it, a cry escaping his throat.

I grasped his hips as he leaned down to kiss me, our tongues meeting in a tangle of sensations as he began to ride me, my hips bucking up to meet him as I slid in and out of him. One of his hands tangled in my hair and he tugged lightly, causing me to groan his name in pleasure. He tore his mouth away from mine, kissing my neck instead, sucking at the tender skin as a hand slid down his belly to his cock and he began to stroke himself.

I watched for a moment, this exquisitely beautiful man rutting into his own hand as he bounced on my lap, it was almost too much for me to handle. I heard what distinctly sounded like a purr emanate from his throat as he nipped at my lower lip. "Blaine I'm going to orgasm soon," Kurt mumbled against my neck and I nodded weakly.

"Me too," I choked out as he adjusted himself slightly, his arse dragging on my cock as he rose. His blue eyes locked on my hazel ones and he kissed me again, groaning my name as he pulled away, semen stringing out across my shirt and his hand.

That was enough to push me to the edge, three more thrusts into Kurt and I was coming undone, the room spinning as I emptied my cock into him, crying out his name before collapsing into the chair. Kurt rested his head on my chest, breathing heavily. "I probably should have said this before," he panted quietly, "but I'm clean, Sue makes sure we get monthly tests what with the business we're in."

I nodded my head in understanding and told him I was clean as well, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead.

Suddenly he sat up, eyes wide. "I have to be back here in an hour, I have to go." With that he was up and off of me, pulling on his pants and leggings. He grabbed his bag and was about to dash out but placed a quick kiss on my lips. "Thank you," he whispered, eyes wet, "for everything, but especially just listening to me." Suddenly he was gone, and I was left in an empty room, denims bunched around my knees and quickly drying strings of semen on my shirt. I groaned. Of course I would get to do the walk of shame home. Kurt had it a little easier, the tee he was wearing would hide anything and semen wouldn't show up as noticeably on his white shirt as it did my navy blue one.

I made it home without a plethora of stares and dropped onto my bed bodily. I vaguely was aware of showering and clothing before drifting into a deep sleep.


	7. Storm Clouds May Gather

To say our next day of working on  _Spectacular, Spectacular_  was awkward would be an understatement. Kurt and I took one look at each other and turned in opposite directions. I couldn't look him in the eye, knowing what we had done, what with the Duke standing there, staring at Kurt. As soon as I saw him, memories from the night before flooded my mind, the admissions he had told me, the way his lips felt against mine, the noises he made as we moved together. I knew inside I would need to push past all of that, to not let anything seem amiss since he and I would have to work together all day.

Sue started our rehearsal off with an announcement saying that from that moment onward Suspenders would be closed as a strip club until the renovations were in place for the new theatre, and pay for the show would begin in place of their Suspenders checks. It broke down to mean that we now had more time to practice, only having to leave when the contractors showed up to start tearing down and rebuilding.

Brad wanted to work on music, deciding to have us sit and learn the chorus parts before breaking off to work on individual solos and duets so that the costume department could work on the costumes. I had seen some of the first boards when I came in and was impressed by the talent that some of them showed including a quiet girl named Tina and a loud, boisterous guy with a Mohawk called Puck. The entire group of workers at Suspenders was insanely talented in some area or another.

Although I couldn't look Kurt in the eye, I couldn't keep from staring at him either. I kept watching him move gracefully across the floor, twisting and turning as he worked through the choreography, his body like liquid as he flowed from one move to the other. I couldn't help but to want to run and grab his hands, to dance along with him, to let the music say everything I couldn't.

Instead I ran through lines with Santana who kept looking between Kurt and me as if she knew something had happened the night before. "Handsome one isn't he?" she questioned with a knowing smirk.

"Yeah he is, too bad he's with the Duke," I manage to answer, attempting nonplussed and sounding more constipated than anything.

"You sound a bit jealous there Anderson," she remarked, her grin reminding me of a shark smelling blood.

I stop for a moment, trying to come up with some form of viable answer. "Hey, he's got a great arse, what guy wouldn't be jealous?" I joked, wanting very much for the conversation to be over.

"And girls. Not that I would care, I've got Britt. Anyway, let's get to our lines, can't sit around all day discussing how much you obviously want to shag Porcelain."

I almost choked on the sip of Coke I was drinking, but managed to keep my composure as she watched me, narrowing her eyes. "Right, the lines," I mumbled, picking up my script.

* * *

Brad had agreed to stay late again, something I wished he hadn't done, seeing as Kurt had yet to say more than 'hello, Blaine' to me, other than the lines we worked through earlier in the day.

Now it was just he and I along with Brad in the musty old back room, gathered around a piano. I wondered briefly if our time spent together the night before would have an impact on the way he and I performed together. That was until Brad began to play, the melody shutting down thought processes in my brain until familiar words were flowing out of my mouth. Kurt worked just as hard as I did, or harder even, on keeping pitch, staying on tempo, and harmonizing that I vaguely wondered how many more practices would be necessary for the two of us to meet for extended hours to work on our songs.

"Hey Kurt," I said softly, terrified of the blue-eyed boy. Brad had just left and the two of us were alone, Kurt packing his script into the bag he carried with him.

Kurt mumbled something unintelligible before turning to face me. "Yes Blaine?"

"Look, if you're upset with me, I understand. I'm sorry about last night; sorry about everything really; please just don't ignore me anymore."

Kurt regarded me with a chilly, almost angry stare. "You regret it."

I stared at him for a moment, unmoving, as those words sunk in, confusing me. "What no, I don't regret anything Kurt."

I watched as his gaze darted to the floor, his cheeks tingeing red in his embarrassment for misreading the situation. "So, you don't regret it; don't wish you could take it all back?" His voice was low, almost pleading for me to say I would repeat it if I could.

"Kurt, it was one of the best nights of my life, there is no way I would want to take it back or wish it had never happened. I wish I could take you home every night and hold you like I did last night. You deserve so much more than that creep that leers at you every time you move across the floor."

"I hate him so much," Kurt spat disgustedly. "If I didn't need the money and his influence I would walk through that door and never look back. But I can't afford that; I can't just leave and hope that one day I'll be out of here, supporting myself."

"I'd go with you."

"Blaine, you don't even know me. You wouldn't just put your life on hold for some strip club dancer, you'd be mental."

I took his hands, needing him to understand that even though we had spent so little time in one another's presence, he meant the world to me. "Kurt, I would."

"I do hope you two aren't still practicing, you need to keep up your health," Sue's voice cut through the dimness of the room.

Kurt backed away from me quickly, pulling his hands out of my grasp. "Yeah, I was telling Blaine I should probably get going soon."

I smiled innocently, a plan formulating in my head. "I was just trying to get him to go to dinner with me so we could finalize a few lines."

Sue looked at me strangely, eyes narrowing into slits. "Blaine, I would advise you not to get on Jesse's bad side. If he finds out there's anything  _funny_ going on you can kiss any career you've ever thought about pursuing goodbye. He will not take well to you wining and dining Porcelain for purposes that are less than honest."

I want to grab her and shake her, try and make her see some sense but I knew she only saw dollar signs. Instead I gave her my most award-winning smile before launching into a beautiful charade. "I merely wanted to eat dinner with a fantastic co-worker who happens to be playing opposite of me. I though perhaps it would allow us to get to know one another a little better, to play off each other's strong points."

Sue thought it over and I could almost swear I had heard Kurt laugh near the end of my small speech. "Fine, but make sure you get Porcelain home at a decent hour."

I mock saluted her, all-in-all most likely making her angrier, not finding it in myself to care. "Yes ma'am, I'll have him home before curfew."

"You're toeing a fine line Anderson," she warned as she turned away. "I'd be careful if I were you."

I waited until the door had clicked shut behind her before turning around to face Kurt. "Oh look, mummy wants you home before midnight. Going to turn into a pumpkin on me?"

"It's quite possible," Kurt smirked, his eyes glinting mischievously. "Of course, you'd have to keep me out past curfew to find out."

* * *

Kurt and I sat at a small table in a restaurant I enjoyed,  _Oliver's_ , sipping at cups of coffee. "This was spectacular, thank you Blaine."

"Of course. I am glad you could make it."

Kurt shook his head at me, resting his cup back on the table. "Do you think it'll do well? The show?"

"It has to since you're in it, you're fantastic," I answered automatically, thinking back to the way he brought the character to life in ways I could never imagine.

"Don't sell yourself short Blaine. You're a fantastic writer and actor."

"Ah, but you see I didn't write it alone, just the music really."

"I fell in love with you that night you sang to me," Kurt admitted, sloshing the liquid in his cup around as he stared into it. "I know I shouldn't have, and I had no reason to, but I did and so there."

My mouth curled into a smile as I rested my hand on top of his. "I fell in love with you the first moment my eyes landed on you. I know how you feel."

"Why me?" Kurt asked, his eyes clear and open, obviously wondering what he was worth to anyone.

"Because you're you and you're not afraid to be different. You're everything I couldn't be. I let my father rule my life until one day I snapped and just left. Packed my bags and drove here to Hollywood, hell-bent on proving him wrong."

"I'm proud of you for that. No parent should ever oppress their children."

"Tell that to my father," I muttered bitterly. "Anyway, I guess I should be getting you home, don't want you to turn into a cucumber or squash."

"Life as a vegetable would at least be over more quickly," Kurt laughed grimly. "Yet, you'll never find out the secrets of my magical turning into vegetation if you don't at least keep me out a little later."

"How does all night sound? I've got an empty flat and space in my bed." I watched him carefully, holding my breath.

"Sound like a plan. Let's bust this gin joint and head back your place."

I smiled, taking his hand as we stood from the table, heading out to the kerb and haling a cab. Kurt Hummel was going home with me, take that Jesse St James.


	8. Suddenly My Life Doesn't Seem Such a Waste

I awoke that next morning to golden sunlight pressing against my eyelids.

"Oh god," I heard Kurt moan next to me. "Blaine, get up! We're running late, shit."

I stirred at the sound of urgency in Kurt's voice. "What's happening? The apartment on fire?"

"No, we're late to rehearsal and the Duke is sitting in today, fuck I'm in trouble."

I watched as Kurt flew up from the bed, grabbing at clothes haphazardly and I sprang into action, dressing as quickly as possible. "Ready?" I asked, rubbing sleep from my eyes. Kurt nodded, heading towards the door.

* * *

Rehearsal had been going well and the cast was taking a well-deserved break when I saw the Duke pull Kurt to the side. I made my way close enough so that I could hear what they were saying. "Would you like to explain why you're wearing another man's shirt?" The Duke asked and I sucked in a breath quickly.

I thought back to the morning to realise Kurt must have grabbed my grey button-up instead of his own blue one. "I had too much wine last night at dinner and found myself asleep on Blaine's sofa. You have nothing to worry about," I heard Kurt answer and I bit my lip, hoping the Duke would buy it.

"I find myself becoming increasingly worried by you Kurt. You know the contract, I'd advise you not to break it."

"It won't happen again," came Kurt's reply and my heart dropped into my stomach. I had caused Kurt to get into trouble with the Duke, and I suddenly felt miserable.

"See that it doesn't or this little production will be shut down and the little screenwriter is out of a job and will be living on the street."

I had to bite my tongue to keep from lashing out, from telling the Duke that I was twice the man he would ever be. I moved away as I noticed Kurt's soft footsteps were coming in my direction and I watched silently as Kurt headed back out to practice.

* * *

I could tell Kurt was miserable, he kept glancing between the Duke and me, looking only at me when we were running our lines together. I longed to reach out and touch him, to have just another stolen moment with him.

I watched as he locked eyes with me, tilting his head as we spun, mouthing the words 'dressing room' to me. I nodded discreetly, looking over to where the Duke had been sitting. The man had left and as Sue called cut on the scene, she dismissed us for lunch, and I knew that Kurt and I would have at the least fifteen minutes to spend together.

I stretched off to the side for a few moments, allowing the others to leave before I made my way slowly to Kurt's dressing room. I knocked gently and smiled as Kurt opened the door, tugging me into the small room.

As soon as he shut the door behind us, he pressed me against it, kissing me hard. "I hate not being able to kiss you when I want," he mumbled against my lips and I pulled him close, kissing him hard.

"One day we'll fly away, together," I whispered to him before wrapping my arms around him, kissing him fervently. Our mouths fit together and I sighed into his as he pressed against me, our bodies rubbing insistently against each other. Kurt gasped as I rocked up against him, his fingers deftly unbuttoning my shirt so that he could slide his fingers against my skin.

His lips assaulted my neck in a flurry of kisses that had me begging him for more and he quickly acquiesced to my demands, sinking to his knees in an almost unbearable way. I watched, eyes wide as he made short time of my trousers and boxer-briefs, those long, delicate fingers wrapping around me as I almost buckled at the knees. His lips were heavenly as they pressed against the head of my cock, his wet, velvety tongue laving at the underside of it. I nearly lost it as he sucked onto me, bobbing his head slowly and one of my hands found its way involuntarily into his hair.

I tugged hard at the strands of his hair as he took me down his throat in one swift movement, my legs almost giving out from under me. I was harder than I'd ever been and I felt almost dizzy at how he sucked and bobbed and made me forget my own damn name. "Kurt," I moaned, torn between pulling him up so that we could rut together, get each other off and letting him finish me right then and there.

I knew for certain I wouldn't last long like this, especially not when he gently scraped his teeth along the shaft, my hips bucking up of their own accord. I managed to pull him off of my cock and up for a kiss, shivering with need as I tasted myself on him.

Kurt's fingers tangled with mine in our haste to remove his trousers, my hands tugging them and his pants down. I pressed against him, eliciting a moan from that gorgeous throat. We rut against each other, our bodies already sweaty from the exertion of the day and we slid together with a sweet, tight friction that set our skin ablaze.

He kissed me, overwhelming me with the feel of my name being moaned into my mouth and I lost myself to the motion, releasing against his stomach. Through the haze of my orgasm I could barely realise my hand had wrapped around him, stroking him off until his warm semen was covering my hand.

We rode the high of our orgasms down with slow, wet, open-mouthed kisses. His hand tangled in my curls as we pressed our lips together repeatedly, clinging to each other for support.

"Well damn," he laughed, pulling away at last and I pulled shakily from the wall.

"Damn indeed," I groaned, pulling my trousers and pants back up. I watched as Kurt cleaned up with a rag before shimmying back into the sweatpants he wore. I smile as he kissed me again, his hand finding mine and out fingers entangled as we kissed again and again.

Kurt pulled away slowly and we both sighed as I kissed his forehead, slipping out the door. I glanced around to make sure the coast was clear and headed back to the stage, sticking my nose in a copy of the finalised script.

* * *

We were halfway through a final run-through of the last act when the Duke arrived, mostly drunk. I was peeved off from the moment he sat down in the front row of the newly renovated seats, wolf-whistling as Kurt finished his monologue.

I tried to ignore the Duke but the longer we went on, the more insolent he became. At one point he attempted to pull Kurt offstage and we paused for Kurt to escort him back to his seat, all while the Duke groped him.

We were able to finish without further interruption, but I had the misfortune of bumping into Kurt and the Duke in the hall. Jesse had Kurt pinned against the wall, grinning selfishly down at him as he pressed against him, ignoring Kurt's pleas to stop. I saw red. I pulled the Duke away from Kurt and gave him a right hook to the eye.

I knocked him off-balance and gloried in watching him reel into the wall before he straightened and caught me with an upper-hand jab to the jaw. With stars swimming in my eyes, I jumped him, wrapping my hands around his throat as he pulled at my hair, trying to claw at my face.

I could hear yelling, both of our names being thrown into the air but all I could focus on was choking the life out of the son of a bitch beneath me.

I'm not sure how long the Duke and I fought, but it wasn't until two pairs of hands were roughly handling me off of him and then cuffing me that I realised I was in deep shit.

Sue had called the cops sometime between Jesse getting a fistful of my hair and me leaving finger imprints in his arm. As they hauled me out of the theatre and into the waiting car, I glanced back at Kurt who was watching the scene in silence, arms folded across his chest. I felt like I had completely let him down.

The ride to the precinct was blessedly quiet and the officer booking me asked just enough questions to fill out his report before dumping me in an empty cell. I lay on the cot, wearily looking up at the ceiling and wondered what my father would say if he knew I had ended up here. Probably would have told me he was surprised I had lasted this long.

I thought of Kurt, of how he didn't seem mad or disappointed with me, only blank, as if his hope of ever leaving the Moulin Rouge was lost. I had failed him, and I hated myself for that.

* * *

I awoke to a commotion at the end of the small cell block I was in and opened my eyes to the sight of Kurt standing at my cell with the officer who had put me there. I watched in awe as the officer unlocked the door, telling me I was free to go.

It wasn't until we had left the station that I had worked up the nerve to tell Kurt thank you for bailing me out. "I owe you everything," I managed, daring to look over at him.

Kurt kept quiet for a second, contemplating his words. "I've lost everything else, I couldn't lose you too."

I took his hand as we caught a cab, deciding on my apartment and we rode in comfortable silence.

"Welcome back," I grinned as he walked through the door and I was surprised as he pulled me close, holding me tightly.

"You're the only thing that keeps me sane," he whispered, pulling me as close as possible.

"You're the only one that I love," I whispered back, scooping him up into my arms as I carried him to the bedroom. "Let's get some rest so that we can work things out in the morning."

Kurt nodded as I pulled a tee shirt and ratty pair of shorts for him to sleep in and I smile as he snuggled into them after putting them on. I was weary from rehearsal and the ensuing fight, so as I climbed into bed, I pulled him close, settling around him, and promptly fell asleep.


	9. My Whole World Revolves Around You Now

I awoke in the morning to a pounding on my door. I rubbed my face, trying to understand the slurred speech being shouted through the mail slot. “Kurt, wake up,” I yawned, shaking his shoulder gently as I padded to the door.

As I neared the door, I was able to recognize the voice as that of The Duke. I froze as he began to pound loudly on the door again. “I know you’re in there you bastard,” he yelled, the door shaking from the force of his fist upon it. I saw Kurt round the corner and put a hand up to stop him. I took a step forward even though I was trembling in fear.

“You aren’t welcome here,” I shouted back. “Go away and I won’t press charges!”

The laugh that followed my words chilled me to my bone, but the pounding on my door had ceased. I turned to walk back to Kurt when the first bullet ripped through the flimsy wood of the door. I froze where I stood, unable to move when a burning sensation spread through my side.

The last thing I remember was Kurt crying out my name and his arms circling me as I began to fall to the floor, darkness engulfing me.

* * *

 

I awoke later in the day to the beeping of a heart monitor. My head was foggy, but I blinked my eyes open to see Kurt curled in the bedside chair, reading a book. “Hey,” I croaked out and watched relief flood into his eyes as he closed the book, standing from his chair.

“You’re awake, thank goodness.” Kurt grabbed my hand, squeezing it gently. “The bullet barely grazed you, but they want to keep you in here overnight anyway.”

“But the show!” I cleared my throat. “And The Duke, what happened to him?”

“He’s gone for good Blaine, they caught him and locked him away. We can be happy now.”

I pulled Kurt down to me and kissed him deeply. I sighed at the feel of his hands sliding into my hair. After a moment I pulled away, still curious. “Can we talk them into letting me perform?”

“Blaine, you were shot, you shouldn’t be performing. I don’t think they’ll allow you to go, anyway.”

I frowned, knowing this was the most important night of our lives. “You’ll do wonderful and I wish nothing more than for you to shine.”

“You should be there, instead of that stupid understudy.” Kurt looked forlorn and I wanted nothing more than to kiss the pain away. “I did bring some clothes for you. You don’t look fashionable in that hospital gown.”

I laughed then, the smile reaching to my eyes as I kissed him again. “You’re amazing.”

“I do try.” Kurt turned, grabbing the bag and I stood slowly to dress.

“How did he find you?” I asked as I sat back down, shifting on the bed.

Kurt took his chair again, looking around the room. “He had me followed, I guess he knew about how I felt about you. He found your place and well, you remember the rest.”

“Yeah, I do,” I chuckled softly, running a hand through my curls.

“Blaine, I hate to leave you, but I have to get to dress rehearsal. I’ll come after the show, okay?”

I nodded. “Yeah, of course. I’ll be here.”

Kurt kissed me softly and I smiled, cupping his face.

* * *

 

I stared up at the ceiling, angry they wouldn’t let me out. It wasn’t as if I’d actually been pierced by the bullet! But alas, they still wanted to keep me in there for the night. No matter how much I begged, pleaded with the doctors to let me go, they kept denying my requests.

So I sat there for a bit, trying to figure out what to do. I couldn’t miss out on the most important night of mine and Kurt’s life. It was what we had worked for, what we had risked everything for. It was what had brought us together. I looked around the room, standing up. They didn’t have me hooked up to anything but a hear monitor and I wondered how long it would take them to realize that I had stripped it off and left the room.

Over five minutes it seemed as I was on my way out of the hospital, heading as fast as I could to the theatre. Kurt needed me and I needed him desperately. I had never thought of myself as an overly proud person, but I knew that Kurt and the understudy didn’t have the chemistry that Kurt and I had.

I hailed a taxi, sliding in and gave the driver the address for the theatre. I leaned back in the seat, watching the buildings go by, trying not to think about the minutes ticking by closer to the show opening.

As soon as the taxi stopped, I tossed cash in the front, climbing out as I raced to the backstage door. I burst in, shocking at least half the cast. I waved my hand to hush them as I struggle into my costume. “Blaine, you shouldn’t be here,” Kurt whispered, helping me into my shirt.

“I couldn’t stay away, not when there’s so much of me into this show.”

Kurt nodded, holding my pants out to me. “I’m glad you’re here, to put this show on with me.”

“So am I.”

* * *

 

I listened as the crowd cheered, clapping for us as we took our final bows. The cast regrouped backstage and we all congratulated each other on a fantastic performance. We had won the hearts of the crowd, many of them donors, and knew that the new Moulin Rouge would be here for quite a while.

A knock quieted the din in the room and I opened the door to find Will Schuster, one of the premiere talent scouts standing in front of me. “Ah, Mister Blaine Anderson,” he smiled, offering his hand to me, “Could I speak to you and Mister Hummel please?”

I motioned for Kurt and we stepped into the office, closing the door behind us.

“I was very pleased with the performance,” Mister Schuster began, “and I’m here to offer you boys the opportunity of a lifetime.”

Kurt and I were on the edge of our seats, we knew exactly where this was headed.

“As both of you, well hopefully, know, I am a scout for some of Broadway’s biggest theatres and most important show producers. I have big plans for you two, very big plans. I’d like both of you to return to New York with me. There’s a few auditions I’d like you to go for in some revival shows. And I’m not talking off-Broadway. How does that sound to you?”

Kurt and I looked at each other before nodding. I smiled at Mister Schuster, “let us pack our bags and we’ll be there.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it, I've made it to the end. Thank you for all the comments and kudos, you are he reason I keep writing. I hope you enjoyed this as much as I.  
> Love, Chelsea

**Author's Note:**

> This is how I set up the characters. Blaine-Christian, Finn-Narcoleptic Argentinian, Puck-Toulouse, Artie- Satie, Sam-Other random bohemian guy, Mike-Audrey, Sue-Harold Zidler, Kurt-Satine.


End file.
